


Tourner Dans Le Vide

by FuneralOfTheDeadButterflies



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Love at First Sight, M/M, chamomile is a nonbinary male and uses they/them pronouns, contains a LOT of headcanons, grimm has never experienced romantic feelings before and has no idea how to handle them, this is gonna have multiple chapters ao3 is just stupid on mobile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-07 13:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21217367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuneralOfTheDeadButterflies/pseuds/FuneralOfTheDeadButterflies
Summary: An unexpected visitor comes to Grimm's tent, and he finds himself quickly becoming entraptured by them. For once, he selfishly wants to pursue something he wants, even though he knows their story will end in tragedy.(Warning: Contains spoilers for the end of the Grimm Troupe DLC, proceed with caution if you haven't played it.)





	Tourner Dans Le Vide

None of them dared to step into the tent.

Except for the little vessel. Which was a given, since they were the one that had summoned them.

Brumm, as kind as he was, had gone out to see what was around them, and reported a small town. A few merchants, an elderly guide, and a few resting travelers, the usual inhabitants of a kingdom long after it had drawn its last breath. They were all unnerved by the troupe's appearance, according to what Brumm had reported. None of them wanted anything to do with the troupe, and that was fine with Grimm. All that mattered was the vessel caring for their child. And fear meant no interference.

So, Grimm was almost taken aback when he actually received another visitor.

His back was to the guest, leading him to believe that the vessel had returned with the embers already. "Mm? Back already? It feels like I just sent you out, does time really fly by so…"

He turns, and stops.

"Soon?"

Just a foot or so away stands a moth, their white wings taking on a rosy tint from the red flames. Feathery, black antennae twitch idly as the moth's yellow eyes look over him, regarding him in an almost...curious manner, a bit odd compared to the fear and awe he usually received when someone gazed up on him for the first time.

How long had it been since he had actually met a moth? In almost every ruined kingdom the troupe came to, the residents had dwindled to the common beetles, the elusive moths either long dead or had fled elsewhere. He had at least expected a few in Hallownest, as this had been where his sister's light once shone the brightest, and moths always flocked to the greater beings they had descended from.

But now that he's actually facing one he doesn't know what to do, or say. For a moment, the great, powerful Grimm finds himself at a loss for words, all because of a little moth.

Finally, after an awkward pause, the moth speaks. "Oh...sorry." Their voice is so gentle, so soft, like a feather drifting on a light breeze. And the way their antennae droop, combined with the disappointment in their tone, makes Grimm's heart _ ache _ just for a moment. 

"Is this a bad time? Or am I not supposed to be here?" They start to turn away. "I'll go, sorry to bother you."

Grimm has a thought. A horrible, selfish thought that he knows he shouldn't have. His purpose is to prolong the heart, forming bonds with mortals outside of the troupe is pointless, as once the ritual is completed he will never see them again. But just for a moment, can't he have someone normal to speak to for once? Especially a rare specimen that, as far as he knows, he may never see again.

The ritual has already started, he knows his time left in this state is limited. He'll only do it just once, to satisfy the urge. Then, never again.

"Wait!" He steps forward, his voice just a bit too loud as the other moth freezes. No, that's no good. He doesn't want this one to be scared off. He needs to regain his composure.

As the white moth turns back to him, he takes a deep breath and clears his throat, steadying himself. Easy Grimm, easy. This is no different than talking to someone in your troupe, or the vessel, no need to get so riled up. "You just caught me deep in thought." A poor excuse, but what else could he say? "I usually don't receive visitors."

The moth stares for a moment, and now Grimm feels like the awkward one. Then, they speak, their voice crystal clear despite the ruff of grey and orange fur around their neck. "I don't understand why. Elderbug says you're all a bad omen, but if you meant us harm you surely would have done something by now."

They state it in such a matter-of-fact manner, instead of phrasing it as a question. They're right, of course. The troupe is only here for the ritual. But their bluntness is...surprisingly refreshing.

Grimm can't help be chuckle. "You say that as if it's a fact, but how do you know that for sure?"

"I don't. But I try not to assume the worst from others."

How naïve.

And how adorable.

"Your assumption is correct, in this case. We are not here to do any harm." He swears, he sees the moth's shoulders relax slightly. "It is merely just...a trip for my child. To help it grow stronger." Oh, that sounds like a load of stag droppings. There is no possible way that they will believe-

"Oh!" The moth makes a soft humming sound, perhaps in recognition. "Is that the little thing that I saw heading down the well with the little knight?" 

Ah, so they've at least seen the child, and the vessel as well.

"Indeed, that was no thing. That was the Grimmchild." As he speaks, Grimm decides to risk stepping closer. The moth doesn't even so much as shrink at his presence, instead just merely looking up to keep the eye contact between them intact. "Do not fret, though, the child is quite strong. The knight is merely working with us to help train it."

"I see, I see…" The moth nods, only for their antennae to stand straight up. "Oh, my deepest apologies! We've already started a dialogue, and I haven't even introduced myself!"

Oh, that's adorable. What a polite little thing, he's already beginning to enjoy this one's company.

Grimm tries to dispel their worries with a wave of his hand. "No need to fret. If I hadn't paused at the beginning of this, perhaps we would have gotten to our introductions sooner."

He bows deeply to the white moth, his head dipping below theirs as he looks up at them. "I am Grimm, the master of this troupe." He extends a hand to them, something he normally doesn't offer when meeting someone new. "And to whom do I owe this pleasure?"

The orange spots under the moth's eyes turn an almost golden color, and seeing the blush makes Grimm's heart swell as they trip over their words. "I-I, I'm…"

A grey claw extends from underneath the wings, allowing Grimm to gently grasp it. "I'm...Chamomile. It's a pleasure to meet you, Grimm."

Chamomile. What a perfect name, fitting for a perfect specimen.

"Well then, Chamomile, would you like to take this discussion somewhere more private? I would love to hear more about you."

He thinks they'll get along just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/kenhastings)
> 
> Headcanons for this chapter: Moths are seen as very attractive/desirable, due to being descended from higher beings. Which is why Grimm is immediately stunned and falls into lovey dovey binch disease when he sees Chamomile.
> 
> Welcome to my new project that I'll hopefully finish! This is a ship I've been dwelling on for a while but was too embarrassed to really post anything public about it, up until now! I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent garbage.


End file.
